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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417509">Come into the Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_murmaider/pseuds/little_murmaider'>little_murmaider</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metalocalypse (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crying for no raisin, HOT dogs!, Hair Tutorial YouTube videos, Just a lot of Soft Content my dudes, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, dogs!, kissing!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:02:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_murmaider/pseuds/little_murmaider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe I'm the same as all those men, writing songs of all they're dreaming. But would you tell me if you want me? 'Cause I can't move until you show me."</p><p>[A collection of small Nathan/Skwisgaar fics originally posted on Tumblr.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nathan Explosion/Skwisgaar Skwigelf, Nathan Explosion/Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 5 Easy Up-Dos for Girls on the Go! (NO HOT TOOLS!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan clicked out of the video in disgust.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Ugh. Don’t…I can’t stand that clickbait bullshit.” A stream of smiling, heavily-made up girls and women flooded his screen as he scrolled. “Don’t say you have 5 Easy Last Minute Hairstyles if one of them is just…put a hat on. Putting a hat on is not a hairstyle.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar’s cheek rested on Nathan’s meaty thigh. He adjusted to better view the laptop.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Why you likes dese videos anyways?” He asked. “You gots a lots of hard opinions for someones what don’ts does not’ings but wash hims hair and lets fate decides how it gonna looks.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan paused at a video titled NO EFFORT DUTCH BRAID CROWN!!!!, the title screen boasting an enthusiastic redhead. He clicked.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know,” he answered. “ASMR kinda creeps me out. Watching pretty ladies braid their hair feels less weird?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar hummed, burrowed his arm beneath Nathan’s knee. He’d  been uncharacteristically agreeable as of late. Maybe agreeable wasn’t the right word. Passive. Removed. Listless. Unopinionated in Band Matters. Skwisgaar could be quiet, but his quietness recently was noticeable. At least, Nathan had noticed.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Hey.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Mm?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“What’s been up with you?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar’s fingers clenched against Nathan’s knee, then relaxed. “What you means?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“You haven’t been…<em>you</em> you. In a while.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar made a noise deep in his throat that meant he was about to deflect.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“I hasn’t beens me? Who <em>ams</em> me? Who ams <em>any</em> of us, whens you t’inks abouts it? Eh? What <em>ams de self</em>—“<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan laid his hand across his mouth. Skwisgaar tensed. He shifted his face so his lips mashed into the doughy pile of skin at the top of Nathan’s palm. He closed his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Tell me.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“Mm.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">His hand slid away, short nails edging into Skwisgaar’s hairline.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“It’ll clears up eventugallys.” Skwisgaar said after a pause. “It always does. No reasons for yous to bes one such worry-warts.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan watched his fingers slice through the long golden strands easily as warm butter.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“I mean, I’m <em>gonna</em> worry. You can’t stop me from doing that. You’re not my dad.”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">On-screen, the enthusiastic redhead waggled a bottle of dry shampoo.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“—don’t forget to pancake the braid to give it more volume. If you don’t have texturizing spray, you can just, like, pull it a little more to make it bigger, hehehe—"<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Without warning, Skwisgaar sat up.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“You watch a million billions of dese videos, you ever dones any of dese hairstyles?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan frowned. “No…”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">He rolled over Nathan’s thigh, positioned himself between his legs.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“You wants to practice?”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">The video was nearly over, and who knew what hell autoplay could bring. But Nathan had seen enough of them to know the basics. And he knew Skwisgaar enough that this was the most he was going to give. He pulled a few hair ties from his pocket, combed his fingers through his hair. At the touch Skwisgaar sank, his back relaxing against Nathan’s chest without tension, head falling into his shoulder as though it were always meant to be there. Nathan scratched lightly at his scalp.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span class="s1">“You know,” he murmured into Skwisgaar’s ear, “you’re gonna have to move up if you want me to do this.”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="s1">“I knows,” Skwisgaar sighed, and closed his eyes once more.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Last Ones Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was supposed to be part of a larger story that has since pivoted into something else, so this part is no longer relevant. But I still like this part! They're in Nathan's high school gym.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar slouched in his seat, elbow on his thigh, forehead in his hand, hair cascading over his shoulders. Shadows sliced the few parts of his face not concealed by his massive palm.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Don’t pass out,” Nathan growled.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m nots.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“<em>Don’t</em>.” He squatted before him and jammed his hands beneath his armpits. “I’m not carrying your ass all the way home. <em>Up</em>.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Despite the warning Skwisgaar was not prepared, and when he was dragged out of his chair his noodley legs betrayed him. Unable to find footing, he stumbled like a half-numb horse into Nathan, arms scrambling for purchase around his waist. Nathan steadied him instinctively, one hand on the base of his spine, the other between his shoulder blades, and then they were pressed up against one another and it was still. Skwisgaar’s skin was chalky with the faint film of dried sweat. Nathan had a flash, to the school dances he longed to attend but did not; to his earnest, embarrassing early-teenage fantasy of holding someone close and swaying to some slow forgettable pop song and then at the right moment–<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Acting on muscle memory for a memory he did not possess, he kissed Skwisgaar on the cheek. <br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s2">But before he could process his error, Skwisgaar mimicked him, kissed him on his opposite cheek. So Nathan kissed him again. And Skwisgaar kissed him again. It went on like that, a wordless affectionate transaction, each kiss’s mark migrating until their mouths met and they held there in unmoving silence for a long, long time, long enough it could not be dismissed as an accident. <br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">The moment imploded when Skwisgaar bailed out, unwinding from Nathan’s torso and burying his face in his hands, shoulders trembling and breathing heavy and. Oh. Yikes. <em>Yikes yikes yikes</em>.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“You’re sad,” Nathan said, regret’s frozen hands clambering up his spine, “because I’m a bad kisser.” <br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar shook his head. The pockets of skin between his fingers glistened.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m such a bad kisser it made you sad.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“<em>Nej</em>, Nathans.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Then why are you sad?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“I don’t knows,” Skwisgaar mumbled, grip tightening at his roots. “I don’t knows.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">He inhaled, exhaled like a dying bird.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Does you ever feels like, you miss somet’ings dat you never ever has?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Though Skwisgaar had let go he had not stepped back, and so Nathan still held him in a light embrace. He slid his hands across his back, along his soft, spindly arms and squeezed, gently, at the space above the bends of his elbows.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“So.” He said, slowly. “What I’m hearing is. This is not the kissing’s fault.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“No. De kissing was………nice……..”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Would more kissing make you less sad?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar’s hands opened like a pair of French doors.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s2">“I don’ts t’inks it woulds make it woirse.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. DOG DADS!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story was based on <a href="https://bjornkram-art.tumblr.com/post/190436691422/for-my-beautiful-beautiful-birthday-friend">my friend Bjorn's perfect art!</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan studied the menu of Da Dawg Houz with a dissatisfied groan. Under the patio’s bright orange canopy patrons munched on massive hot dogs, smothered in a cornucopia of toppings and served in colorful plastic dog dishes. Behind the counter, the hostess had a hushed, tense conversation with her manager, both occasionally glancing back at the entrance where he and Skwisgaar waited. Nathan’s gator sunned contentedly at his feet. Skwisgaar’s dog performed a full-body shake and trotted happily away from the unfathomable shit she’d dropped in the sidewalk flowerbed.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“What’s de problems?” Skwisgaar asked, rearranging the plants with the toe of his boot to hide the evidence. “Dis de foirst place what ams mights lets us brings dem insides.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“I know,” Nathan said.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“So why you makes dat face?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“What face?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“De face dat says we abouts to walks 12 more blocks to finds some other place to eats.” His dog pressed her face into his thigh and he palmed her head like a basketball. Her tail buffed furiously against the cement. “I’s hungry. If dey lets us ins we gots to eat heres.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but…”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“But <b>whats</b>?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan looked at Skwisgaar, then at his dog, then at his gator. He gestured so his cupped hands hovered on either side of his head.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Gu~uys,” he said in the sing-song lilt he always used with them, “<b><em>earmuffs</em></b>.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">The animals did nothing.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“<em>Skwisgaar</em>,” Nathan whispered, sliding his hand on the small of Skwisgaar’s back to draw him closer, “this is a <em>hot dog restaurant</em>.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar exhaled through his teeth. “Nathan, I don’ts has de emotional bandwifs to re-litigates de hot dog debates—“<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s not that.” He pushed his lips against the shell of Skwisgaar’s ear. “What if they’re <em>offended</em>?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar didn’t answer.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“<em>You</em> know and <em>I</em> know hot dogs aren’t made of dogs, probably,” Nathan continued. Skwisgaar twisted his neck so they were eye to eye. “But what if <em>they</em> don’t know that?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar’s expression, curdled with annoyance for the last half hour, softened. A goofy, warm smile spread across his lips, and before Nathan could ask why, Skwisgaar leaned in and kissed him. Aside from some occasional furtive hard-holding, the two were not prone to public displays of affection. Mildly repulsed by the concept, one could say. But the kiss was so soft, so earnest, so unexpected, that Nathan lost himself in it.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">The <em>whump</em> of weight on his back and the awkward <em>jerk </em>of Skwisgaar’s body returned him to the moment. Skwisgaar’s dog had lunged up and hooked her paws over Skwisgaar’s forearm. Nathan’s gator had clambered up his spine, her breath hot on his cheek as her snout pointed upward and open to the sky. Both their tails swished with manic insistence.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">The manager returned.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Thanks for waiting,” she said, eying the animals with placid wariness. “I understand these are………….service animals.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan unlatched the gator’s claws from the meat of his shoulder. “Well, if by <em>service</em> you mean <em>provides a level of love and affection and tenderness no human being is capable of</em> then <b>yeah </b>these are <b><em>service animals</em></b>.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Mine ams for anxiety,” Skwisgaar said, withdrawing a notarized certificate from his back pocket. The manager nodded.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Alright! We’ve got a table set up right over here, please follow me!”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">They cut a strange line through the dining area, the dog and gator eagerly skittering passed the slack-jawed patrons hunched at picnic tables. The manager glimpsed over her shoulder with a Manager smile.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“What’s your pet’s name?” She asked Nathan.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chompy. It’s short for Chain Chomp.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Aw, that’s so cute! Is she friendly?"<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“No.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">The plastic menus cracked in the manager’s tight grip. “Ooooooooookay! Keep her leashed, please!”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“We’ll see.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bloodlines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh a LIL spicy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar finished with a shiver, his still-open mouth quivering against Nathan's collar bone. He coiled into him like an impotent firework, spent and trembling.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan chuckled, scratching at the base of his skull. "Cold?"<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar hummed.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Want me to get the sheets?" He reached back to retrieve the kicked-off blankets from the floor, but Skwisgaar snatched his wrist, tugged it back to hug his waist.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Don't moves," he murmured into his skin.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"So you don't--"<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Hggn."<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Want me to warm you up...?"<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar wrested his arm out from the pin of their bodies. He shifted, chinning Nathan's neck.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"I wants." His fingertips ghosted the outline of Nathan's liver surgery scar. "To opens you ups." They traced upward, over the bulbous expanse of his belly, dipping into his sternum, stopping at the base of his throat. "Crawl insides. Lives in dere."<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Nathan's pulse thrummed at the ends of Skwisgaar's fingers. He sighed into the roots of his hair.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"You'd look good covered in blood."<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar breathed a laugh. "You seens me covered in bloods."<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Not mine."<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar tipped his head back, eyes hooded and smile dreamy. Nathan held his hand between them, waggled his fingers, and made a show. He mimed scooping into his chest, assessing the weight of phantom blood, and dragged it down Skwisgaar's disorientingly attractive face, from his forehead to his jaw. Skwisgaar took the end of Nathan's middle finger into his mouth and bit it around a smile. The shivers slowed, then stopped.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. mama</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a response to the prompt "Nathan comforting Skwisgaar after a visit with his mom."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar comes back pale, eyes glassy, enveloped by the heady silence of the grave. His hands shake too much to play so he sits with the guitar at his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists. Nathan sits beside him, thighs grazing, arm draped lightly across his shoulders. He wants to say he <em>knows</em> Skwisgaar doesn’t like when people see him do it, he <em>knows</em> Skwisgaar doesn’t like to do it, but he also <em>knows</em> Skwisgaar needs to, and the other guys are gone, and he’s not broken or inadequate or weak for needing a release, and it’s okay. It’s more than okay.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan mutters a soft, meaningful, “<b>Hey</b>,” and that’s all it takes for the veneer to crack, for Skwisgaar to crawl into his arms and crush his face against Nathan’s chest, the shirt absorbing the sound and the tears.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. You'll Never Know, Dear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1">It’s not the storms themselves that unsettle Nathan: If he got rattled by every hurricane warning he never would have survived adolescence. It’s the feelings that rise in him when the clouds darken, when the wind whips through the trees, when the ocean churns to a frothy frenzy. A kinship to the chaos, a connection to the destruction that is to come. A paralyzing sense it’s somehow his fault.<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">Skwisgaar sits with him, in his darkened bedroom, watching lightning crack the sky in half. He plucks out songs, some Nathan recognizes and some he doesn’t. There’s one in particular he replays often, sometimes three or four times a night. He says it was one of the first songs his music instructor taught him. Says he hated it for the longest time, found it too simple and too disgustingly sweet. Says it wasn’t until years later he heard the full, dark, bleak version that he finally came around.<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">One night it finally clicks.<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">“Is this You Are My Sunshine?”<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">Skwisgaar grins.<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">“Are you trying to be cute?”<br/><br/></span> <span class="s1">“Ams it workings?”<br/></span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Nathan knocks the guitar from his grip and shoves him into the mattress. He pins both his wrists with one hand and lays across him, Skwisgaar’s delighted giggles vibrating in his chest.<br/><br/></span><span class="s1">“You are,” he says, his body warm, his face buried in the wave of golden hair, “</span><em>so annoying</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Gonna need a new alarm clock my man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan punched the alarm clock so hard the plug dislodged from the outlet; it sailed silent off the nightstand and into the opposite wall. Murky grey skies cottoned through the half-shuttered blinds. Last night’s sweat clung to his legs as suffocating as the synthetic pants of his football uniform. He groaned, rolled to his side. Beside him Skwisgaar was turned away, golden hair pooled at the base of his pillow. Nathan touched him between the shoulder blades, dragged his fingers through the irregular red lines skimming his alabaster skin. Skwisgaar melted comfortably into the touch.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Rehearsal in 20 minutes.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Mm.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“We can’t be late again.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Says who’s?”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Says Magnus.” He rubbed his thumb on the bony wedge of his hip. “He’ll kick your ass.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Psh.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“You’re an easy target.”<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">A swift tumble and he was in his arms, hands in his hair, face in his neck.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Defend meeeees,” he murmured.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">They pushed against each other like tectonic plates. Skwisgaar’s lips found the bend of Nathan’s jaw. Nathan wanted nothing more than to lie there all day, count the bumps in Skwisgaar’s spine, find a new rhythm in the rock of his hips.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s1">“Still wants to goes?” Skwisgaar asked, teeth grazing his earlobe.<br/><br/></span>
  <span class="s2">“…Five more minutes.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ever-Living Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is part of my <a href="https://little-murmaider.tumblr.com/post/188223443213/i-have-a-very-self-indulgent-au-idea-during-a">It's a Wonderful Life AU</a>, where Toki wakes up in a world where his relationship with Skwisgaar never existed, and Skwisgaar and Nathan are together instead. Oh no!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan unwound his arm from Skwisgaar’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, he said as he stood, “I better get out of here if I’m going to make that fucking interview.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeahs you better gets outs of here’s!” Toki agreed, a touch too eagerly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan stroked his chin in thought. “I feel like I’m forgetting something…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Toki’s sure it’ll turns up okays better skee-daddles don’ts wants to be lates goodBYES!!!!!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan snapped his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh wait I remember. I almost forgot…to do <b><em>this.</em></b>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pounced on Skwisgaar like a jungle cat, smothering his neck and jaw in loud, wet kisses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki suppressed a gag. Who <em>were</em> these people?!</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Nathaaaaaaaaaan</em>!” Skwisgaar squealed. “<em>Stooooooooooooooooops!</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<b>Ha ha ha</b>,” Toki said through grinding teeth. “<b>Yeahs he’s rights you should stops</b>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan pulled back, brushing the end of his nose to Skwisgaar’s, his grin wolfish and giddy. Skwisgaar giggled, his hands sliding off Nathan’s shoulders to the back of his neck. Toki looked away before he could see what happened next.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he turned back, Nathan was making his way to the exit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll call you when I’m done!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okays! Text mes when you gets dere!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay! I’ll FaceTime you from the car!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okays! DM mes—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<b>OKAYS GOTS IT GOODBYES</b>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan stumbled out of the threshold with Toki’s shove, the door slamming behind his retreating form. Skwisgaar stared dreamily into the middle distance, his chin in his palms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh,” he sighed, “he ams de <em>woirst</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki couldn’t disagree.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So’s,” Skwisgaar continued, gathering his hair into a low ponytail. “You saids you has an idea for a new solo. You wants to shows to me what you beens working ons?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took some time for Toki to process those words, in that order, coming from that mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uhhh,” he said at last. “Yeahs. Yeahs, sure. But, um, before dat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, an opportunity to execute his plan. Now that he and Skwisgaar were alone, Toki could get some <em>real</em> answers. Find the flaw in this world’s armor and expose it for the weak point it was. Make Skwisgaar realize how <em>wrong</em> this, how <em>all</em> of this, was.  He sank into the opposite end of the couch, a distance both too informal and too intimate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cans I ask you somet’ings?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course, little buddys.” The fraternal, condescending-of-a-different-stripe lilt of Skwisgaar’s tone wrenched Toki’s guts. “You knows you cans talks to mes about anyt’ings.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ha ha. Yeahs. So. I just wonderings.” He shifted closer. “Does you. <em>Likes</em> Nathan?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar snorted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does I <em>likes</em> Nathan?” His nose scrunched in an incredulous stitch. “What kinds of a question ams <em>dat</em>? I <em>loves</em> Nathan.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was like taking a bullet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeahs yeahs yeahs sure sure sure I knows I knows I knows.” Words fell from him in a rush. “Uh. I guess what Toki tryings to say…are you <em>happys</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar beamed. Toki had never seen him smile with so many teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ja, Toki. I ams really, really happys.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What does dat feel like?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar tipped his head to the side. “Why you so interested in dis all of a sudden? Ooh!” His eyes widened, and he leaned over to walk his fingers up Toki’s leg. “Ams dere someone you’s interested in romantick-ga-gly?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki stared at the fingers, vibrating mischievously along his upper thigh, and something in the back of his brain burst.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Somet’ing likes dat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar reclined, chewing at the skin on the edge of his thumb. His gaze was downcast, shy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It sounds kinds of silly whens I says it out louds,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please?” Toki whispered, then cleared his throat. He swallowed. “I really needs to know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar looked up. And <em>there</em>, Toki <em>saw it</em>. Right in the middle of his bright blue eyes. A spark, a flash of…<em>something</em>. Recognition? Acknowledgment? The realization that no matter how content he was here, it was <em>nothing</em> compared to the elation he felt in the universe where he truly belonged? That <em>had</em> to be it. Toki braced, feeling as though he were on the precipice of something massive. But then Skwisgaar smiled. And as quick as that something came, it was gone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It feels like,” Skwisgaar began, then paused. He took a breath. “Imagine you spends your whole lifes in de darks. It all you knows. You don’ts <em>likes</em> it, but you knows how to manage. You figure outs how to survives. Den one day, you see dis little tiny lights. And de next day it’s brighters. Ands de day after dats it even<em> brighters</em>. And it keeps goings like dat, until one days dere amn’ts any dark left. It’s all light.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swept his hair over his shoulder and absently twisted at the ends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But you spends so much times in de dark dat you don’ts t’ink you can handle its. It’s too much. You wants to go backs. But den you realize: Dere’s dis other poirson there wif you. And fors de foirst times in your lifes, you feel really <em>seen</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Skwisgaar laughed breathlessly, his expression serene and joyful and certain and unlike <em>anything</em> Toki had <em>ever</em> seen. He glanced at him, and his features sliced with sympathy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Heyyyyyyy don’ts worry pals!” He reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “Somedays you goings to find someones whats makes you feels dat ways!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki’s eyes swelled with tears as he murmured, “I already <em>dids</em>.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Rice Cake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki busted into Nathan’s room, snacks tumbling from the platter balanced on his hip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello!’ He yelped cheerily, side-stepping a discarded Doritos bag. “I’m backs from de eat-times room wif more snacky-treats—<em>oh</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hushed. The black-out curtains were drawn, the room illuminated by the blue glow of Nathan’s laptop. Nathan lounged on the bed, sheets kicked into a hump at his ankles. Skwisgaar laid across his lap, head nestled in his thigh, fast asleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Somebody can’t hang,” Nathan said, combing his fingers through Skwisgaar’s hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toki set down the tray on the bedside table and settled at his hip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh, baby</em>,<em>” </em>he murmured, brushing his cheekbone with his thumb. “Finally wores youself outs, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You noticed too?” Nathan pushed himself up against the headboard. “How he’s been…?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He still hadn’t found the right word to describe Skwisgaar’s manic spikes of anxiety—the ones that kept him in the studio for days on end, obsessing over the same four bars. When he thought Nathan and Toki were asleep, he’d slip out of bed to sit in the bathtub, frantically fretting—literally and figuratively—until sunrise.  He was getting worse at hiding it. Or maybe Nathan was just getting better at seeing it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He held his free hand in the air and wiggled his fingers to signify a crackle of electricity.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When he gets stuck in dese loops,” Toki turned Skwisgaar’s hand over, tracing the tender ridges of his palm, “de best t’ing to does is lets dem runs dere course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nathan frowned. “Yeah. If you push him on it he just gets defensive. I know. I just.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swept Skwisgaar’s hair off his brow and sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It feels shitty watching him spiral, you know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The low hum of the laptop filled the quiet. Toki curved his hand around Skwisgaar’s wrist, raised it to his mouth, and gently kissed the ends of his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Skwisgaar amn’ts ever gonna admits he wants to be taken cares of,” he said. “So we gots to does it anyways.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that Skwisgaar stirred, moaning softly as he shifted into a new position.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where mines guitars? I gots…” He made a sluggish attempt to sit up, but Nathan’s heavy hand on his ribs stilled him. “I gots to finish dat parts…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Didn’ts you hear?” Toki’s voice lilted with a faux-taunt as he kissed the inside of his wrist. “We amn’ts gonna stop taking cares of you, even whens you being a crazy assholes!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Go back to sleep, baby,” Nathan said softly. Skwisgaar’s eyes drifted closed, his body going slack.<br/>
<br/>
“Okays,” he breathed, and slid back into silence.<br/>
</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this one is almost identical to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593740">A Nice Bake</a> but HEY! Listen! I wanted to write it anyway.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Clap for me!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hunched over a well-worn notebook, Nathan scribbled furiously at the paper, so hard the sheet tore beneath the pressure of his pen. He tore the whole page out with a grunt, crumbled it into a ball, and lofted it over the back of the couch to join the growing pile. Skwisgaar, lying on the floor beneath him, prodded his thigh with the ball of his foot. </p><p>“Something HAS to rhyme with <em>eviscerate</em>…”</p><p>“Nathaaaaaan…”</p><p>“<em>Propagate, liquidate, adjudicate</em>, hey, that might be something…”</p><p>Skwisgaar kicked him harder.</p><p>“<strong>What.</strong>”</p><p>Skwisgaar pouted. “<em>Need attentions</em>.”</p><p>“I’m trying to finish these lyrics, dude.” He pushed his glasses up to the top of his head, wiry black hairs winding around the frames. Skwisgaar halved himself into a seated position, propping his chin on Nathan’s knee.</p><p>“I don’ts see why you can’ts multi-task.”</p><p>“What is the matter with you.”</p><p>“I gots what expoirts in de medical communities call <em>Chronic Tinkerbells Disorders</em>.” He held his palms up, interlocking his thumbs and fluttering his fingers. “If peoples don’ts clap for mes <em>I’ll dies</em>.”</p><p>Nathan turned his attention back to his notebook.</p><p>“Well then I’ll throw you a very tasteful funeral because right now I need to focus and <em><strong>oh for the love of fuck Skwisgaar</strong></em>.”</p><p>In one fluid motion Skwisgaar managed to pour himself into Nathan’s lap, coiling his arms around his neck and knocking the notebook to the floor.</p><p><br/>“<em>Attentions</em>,” he said, nosing through Nathan’s hair.</p><p>“God, you’re thin. I could lay you on your side and play you like a marimba.” He drummed his index fingers on the ridges of Skwisgaar’s ribs. “<em>Bah buh BAH bah, bah buh baaaah buh buh bah</em>. Are you eating enough?”</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“Are you doing that thing you do when you’re stressed out and you forget to eat?”</p><p>Skwisgaar laid his head on his shoulder. “Nots to my knowledge…?”</p><p>“When was the last time you ate?”</p><p>“Uhhhh.” He squinted. “Octobers?”</p><p>“We’re getting burritos.” Loath as he was to admit it, Nathan could use the break. He’d been stuck on the eviscerate line for over an hour. He moved to stand but Skwisgaar did not budge. </p><p>“Carry mes?”</p><p>“Absolutely not—”</p><p>Skwisgaar swung his legs around and locked them around Nathan’s waist in an unbreakable knot. Nathan jumped to his feet, hoping to shake him, but Skwisgaar clung to him like a stubborn koala. Nathan sighed.</p><p>“Ugh. Fine.” Providing Skwisgaar no additional support, he started walking to the kitchen. “I hate you so much.”</p><p>“You <em>loves</em> me.”</p><p>“You’re fucking lucky I do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The song Nathan taps out on Skwisgaar's ribs is Megalovania because I've lost control of my life.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. No YOU Don't Know How to Take a Compliment shut UP</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A Tumblr request:  Nathan casually compliments Skwisgaar on his playing after a show/ recording sesh/ practice, and Skwis gets all FLUSTERED and over thinks it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nathan thumped his fist to Skwisgaar’s bicep.</p><p>“You sounded great tonight.”</p><p>Skwisgaar stutter stepped. “Ja?”</p><p>“Yeah man.” Backstage was narrow and swollen as an infected esophagus. Pickles, Murderface and Magnus had vanished somewhere beyond the black tunnel, as had their roadies, so he and Skwisgaar were alone. “Your playing was really tight. And your stage presence was incredible and you looked uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh what?”</p><p>Skwisgaar had stalled out, gripping his guitar so his knuckles bulged like white bulbous stones. </p><p>“Not’ings. T’anks. Shut ups.”</p><p>“Oh.” They were alone, and Nathan was a little drunk, and the adrenaline of a Good Show was making him giddy and rowdy, so he shoved Skwisgaar against a wall. “I get it.”</p><p>“Shut ups.”</p><p>“You can dish it, but you can’t take it.”</p><p>“I said t’anks.”</p><p>Nathan pushed his face into Skwisgaar’s neck, his lips grazing the sharp edge of his jaw.</p><p>“You sounded great,” he murmured. “And you looked...”</p><p>Skwisgaar hummed, embracing Nathan’s waist with a melting tenderness.</p><p>“Shut ups,” he whispered, and kissed him. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sweet Understanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have a headcanon that Nathan and Skwisgaar are both theater nerds and always sing Little Shop of Horrors at Dethklok Karaoke Night. This is a Tumblr request for: More Nategaar theater nerd shenanigans. Also <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DD7VIKZnGA">this is the song they're singing! </a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<strong></strong>
    <em>“SUDDENLY SEYMOOOOOUURS...!”</em><br/>
<br/>

  <strong>“Sud! Den! Ly! Sey! Moooooour!”</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>“HE PURIFIIIIIIED MEEEEEEEES...!”</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Murderface dragged his hand across his face as Nathan and Skwisgaar vamped on the stage before them.</p><p>“Every fucking karaoke night with thisch schit...” he grumbled.</p><p>Pickles sniffed in agreement. “Dood, I still prefer this to th’ weepy Wicked medley from last week.”</p><p>“Fucking theater nerdsch.”</p><p>Toki, sitting between them, watched with his face in his hands, starry-eyed and enthralled.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>“SHOWED MES I CAAAAAAAAANS—“</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>“Yes you caaaaaAAAAAAAAN!”</strong>
</p><p>They’d done this song together countless times, by now their routine was flawless. But something about this performance felt…electric.  They were both so on, so in sync. Everyone was loving it.</p><p>“How much longer isch thisch schong?”</p><p>As the number reached its climax Nathan seized Skwisgaar’s waist and lifted him into the air with a dramatic flourish. The music swelled, and a irrepressible tide rose up in Nathan as well. A powerful flood of…he didn’t know what. But he was powerless to resist it.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>“…MAAAAAAAAAN!”</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Without thought, Nathan pulled Skwisgaar flush against him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Both microphones clattered to the ground with a shriek of feedback as Skwisgaar, no doubt under the same spell, raked his hands through Nathan’s hair and kissed back, as they stood together in this triumphant moment of…</p><p>Of…</p><p>Of the two of them. Making out. On a stage. In front of all their bandmates.</p><p>“Uhhhhhhhhhh—“</p><p>“Hueghhhhhhhh—“</p><p>“Guess we got kinda uhhhhhhhhh—“</p><p>“Ja?”</p><p>“Caught up. In the moment. There.”</p><p>“Ja wells. Little Shops of Horrors. Cans. Haves dat aff-eckts. On. Peoples.”</p><p>A beat.</p><p>“Please puts me downs.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.”</p><p>“<em>That</em> wuz new,” Pickles said after a long, agonizing silence.</p><p>Toki sighed dreamily. “I haves de weirdest boner.”</p><p>“Schut up Toki.”</p><p>“Oh my GAHD shut up.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Not a Skillful Water Carrier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>“I heard something the other day that made me think of you.”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar lounged across the couch, his head in Nathan’s lap, mindlessly tinkering at the guitar laying on his stomach. One eye popped open, the other still squeezed shut.<br/><br/>“<em>You cannot serve from an empty vessel</em>.”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar pursed his lips. “What’s <em>dat</em> supposed to means?” Nathan’s hand closed around the instrument’s neck.<br/><br/>“I think it’s like.” Wrenching the guitar from Skwisgaar’s possessive grip, Nathan lifted it out of his arms and gingerly set it on the floor at his feet. “If you keep giving and giving and giving, and don’t take anything for yourself, eventually you’re gonna have nothing left” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar turned his face into Nathan’s thigh, idly toying with a loose thread in his jeans.  <br/><br/>“You’ve been putting <em>a lot</em> of work into this new album.” <br/><br/>“Oh <strong><em>GEES</em></strong> I wonders why <strong><em>DAT</em></strong> ams.” <br/><br/>“I’m <em>just saying</em>.” Nathan traced his thumb along the shell of Skwisgaar’s ear, the weight against him shifting with Skwisgaar’s silent exhale. “I don’t want you to burn out. That would be really inconvenient, for me.” <br/><br/>He heard the smile in his voice. “Everyt’ing’s always about <em>yous</em>, ain’ts it?” <br/><br/>“Yeah. It’s like I’ve been telling you douchebags since the beginning.” <br/><br/>“Mm.” <br/><br/>“Every single one of your actions is a direct reflection on <em>me</em>. So don’t embarrass me.” <br/><br/>“Welp, you don’ts gots not’ings to worry abouts, Nathan.” <br/><br/>“Why’s that?” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar looked up at him and grinned. <br/><br/>“Ams an Aquarius. <em>De water bearer</em>.” He made a vase with his cupped hands. “Pretty shore dat means I have, <strong>huegh</strong>, infinite vessels to soirve froms.”<br/><br/>“Oh yeah, well I’m an Aries, <em>the ram</em>. That means--” <br/><br/>He halved himself and, forcefully but affectionately, bumped their foreheads together. <br/><br/>“--I can <em>head butt </em>you until you do what I want.”<br/><br/>Giggling, Skwisgaar reached up and curved his hands around the back of Nathan’s neck, the ends of his fingers trailing along his jaw. Nathan twisted slightly to bite the meaty part of Skwisgaar’s palm.   <br/><br/>“You know,” he said, pressing his lips to the spot where his teeth made contact, “I’m <em>very</em> strong. I could uh.” He paused. “I could you know. Help you bear some of those vessels. Figuratively speaking.”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar pulled him down into a soft, gentle kiss and murmured, “I’ll keeps dat in minds.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Overnighter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathan and Skwisgaar spend the night with Nathan's parents.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Unfortunately I have a condition that makes me constantly think about pre-Klok Nathan and Skwisgaar hanging out at the Explosion household. There is no cure.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>The storm washed out the bridge off the island, so they had to spend the night. Rose made up the pullout in the basement, sheets soft and warm after a 10-minute dryer cycle. She fluffed the pillows, pushed over a half-opened case of water, yanked a knit blanket from the cupboard above the furnace, explained how to operate the television remote Nathan had been using since the sixth grade, and at last ascended the stairs in a flurry of, “if you boys need anything let me know!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she was gone, Nathan flopped onto the mattress and Skwisgaar followed suit, arms coiling around his shoulders and waist. His head made a soft <em>thump</em> against Nathan’s chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nathan stroked his middle finger along the indent of Skwisgaar’s spine. “Don’t fall asleep.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Mhm.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I mean it.” Nathan pressed his lips to the part in Skwisgaar’s hair. “My parents can’t see us like this.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okays.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Before you fall asleep I need you to move.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yups.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A long moment passed. Nathan’s embrace tightened.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Did you move?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
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  <p>“Cool. Thanks.”</p>
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  <p>“No problems, dude.”</p>
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  <p>Skwisgaar’s hips shifted into the side of Nathan’s thigh, his thumb kneading his bicep.</p>
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  <p>“Hey.”</p>
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  <p>“Mm?”</p>
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  <p>“…No. Nothing. Nevermind.”</p>
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  <p>“Whats?”</p>
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  <p>“I almost said something stupid.”</p>
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  <p>Skwisgaar’s laughter vibrated against Nathan’s collar bone.</p>
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  <p>“You always says somet’ings stupid.”</p>
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  <p>“Hey.”</p>
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  <p>“Don’ts be mads.” He tilted his face to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Ams my favorite t’ings about you.”</p>
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  <p>Nathan idly wondered if Skwisgaar could feel his heart pushing up against his sternum. “Oh. Thanks.”</p>
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  <p>“Mhm.”</p>
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  <p>When dawn unfurled they were still entangled, which is exactly how Rose and Oscar found them. Oscar nudged Rose in the ribs.</p>
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  <p>“You always said one day he’d bring home a tall, gorgeous blond.”</p>
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  <p>Rose enveloped him. “He takes after his mama.”</p>
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  <p>“Ooh, <em>Rosie</em>.”</p>
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  <p>“Take me upstairs. When we’re done I’ll make pancakes.”</p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Shelter From the Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A quiet moment.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a follow-up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26248036/chapters/66298468">a very lovely little fic by ggwynbleidd</a>. Check out his stuff!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the storm at last lets up Nathan is too drowsily content to venture out into the muck to check the circuit breaker, so instead he opens all the windows to cool their humidity-sticky bodies. The break in the clouds reveals it is evening, casting the pools of hardened wax in an orangey-pinkish sheen. Wind shakes rainwater from the trees, droplets plinking delicately against the roof. Nathan moves Skwisgaar’s hair aside and presses his lips to his shoulder.<br/><br/>“Hey.”<br/><br/>“Mm?”<br/><br/>“What is it about storms, anyway?”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar hums as he taps out a few chords on the faint outline of Nathan’s liver replacement scar. <br/><br/>“Well, you’ve mets my moms.”<br/><br/>“Mm.”<br/><br/>“She wasn’t eggs-gaktly de most <b><em>hueeegh </em></b><em>hands-on</em> parent.”<br/><br/><b><em>More like a hands-on-a-lot-of-dicks parent</em></b><em>.</em> Nathan smiles to himself, proud of his very good joke and proud he had the restraint to not say it out loud.<br/><br/>“Afters my grandma dieds my moms hads to takes a bunch of different jobs,” Skwisgaar continues. “And dere wasn’t anybody else to watches me whens she was working so…I was alones, a lot.”<br/><br/>Nathan feels the thrum of Skwisgaar’s fingers quicken.<br/><br/>“And I hads dis nightmare what I gots whenever de weather gots bads, dat de woirld was goingks to crack opens and swallow me ups, and nobody woulds even notice I was gone, not even my moms.” He sucks his teeth. “Ands I knows dat’s dumb, and dat amn’ts how it works, but whenever a storm comes it just–”<br/><br/>He closes his fist around the open air and jerks his hand back into his torso.<br/><br/>“<em>Thwip. </em>Brings me backs to how I felts den. And I…I…”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar squeezes his arms around Nathan’s waist and buries his face in his chest. A warm, wet trickle dribbles down Nathan’s skin.<br/><br/>“<em>I don’ts wants to be alones anymore.”<br/><br/>“Oh,</em> baby, hey, no, come here.” Nathan yanks him up by the armpits to make them level, Skwisgaar’s hair curtaining the side of his face. He stiffly pats the back of Skwisgaar’s skull, panic cottoning up his veins. “Don’t…be cry."<br/><br/>Skwisgaar giggles wetly.<br/><br/>“Shut up, dude, I’m bad at this,” Nathan laughs. He strokes the hinge of Skwisgaar’s jaw with his thumb. “Hey,” he says softly. “Look at me.”<br/><br/>He waits until Skwisgaar does.<br/><br/>“You’re not—<em><strong>hrgh</strong></em>.” He grimaces. “I’m not—<em><strong>uuuuggh</strong></em>.” He sighs, the thing he wants to say fluttering manic and inarticulable in his chest. Skwisgaar’s eyes are wide and glistening. Nathan wipes a thin streak off the side of his nose.<br/><br/>“You <em>know</em>, right?”<br/><br/>Skwisgaar flashes a small smile before kissing Nathan gently on the mouth.<br/><br/>“Ja,” he breathes, melting against him. “I knows.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathan and Skwisgaar enjoy a nice day, and Nathan has no ulterior motives whatsoever.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nathan wrested the branch free from the yard wolf’s growling, slobbering mouth. Rearing back, he swung his arm out and released, sending the branch flying towards the woods in a slow-spinning arc. The whole pack chased after it as a yipping, singular, undulating mass. <br/><br/>Nathan gave Skwisgaar’s hand a squeeze. <br/><br/>”This is nice,” he said. “We’re having a nice day.” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar’s eyebrows creased with concern. “Dat’s de fourth times you saids dat, ams you <em>not</em> having a nice days?” <br/><br/>”Of <em>course</em> I’m having a nice day! That’s why I keep saying we’re having a nice day! Because it’s so nice!” <br/><br/>”Just a littles suspicious…” <br/><br/>”Hey.” He wrapped his arms around Skwisgaar’s waist and pulled him close. “Have I told you lately what an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime guitar talent you are?” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar grinned. “You coulds stand to says it mores.” <br/><br/>”You’re also one of the top five hottest people on the planet.” <br/><br/>”Pfft. Only tops <em>fives?</em>” <br/><br/>”Top three! And not just the planet! In the <em>universe!</em> Of <em>all time!</em>” <br/><br/>”Mmmmmm alrights sport.” He curled into Nathan’s embrace, face disappearing into the crook of his neck. “Keeps it in your pants.” <br/><br/>Nathan pressed his lips to Skwisgaar’s temple.  <br/><br/>”Hey.” <br/><br/>”Mm?” <br/><br/>”After we’re done here…” <br/><br/>”Mhm?” <br/><br/>”Maybe we could swing by the studio.” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar shifted his weight, nuzzling against the underside of Nathan’s jaw. “Mmmmm whys?” <br/><br/>”I don’t know, no reason, but uhhhhhh maybe we can work on the album?” <br/><br/>”What you talking abouts? We finish de albums yesterday.” <br/><br/>A long, long, <em>long</em> silence passed. <br/><br/>”<strong>Nathan.” </strong> Skwisgaar unwound himself, his bemused expression hardening into icy malice as he stiffly rose to his full height. “<strong>We finish de albums yesterday.”</strong> <br/><br/>Nathan held tight to Skwisgaar’s hips, thumbs fiddling with the studs of Skwisgaar’s belt. <br/><br/>“Yeah. We did…………..Before I deleted it.” <br/><br/>”<em><strong>Nathan—” <br/><br/></strong></em> ”Don’t be mad.” <br/><br/>”I re-re-re-re-re-records <em>my</em> parts <em>ands</em> Toki’s parts <em>and</em> Moidaface’s parts a millions billions times! Ands you wants me to does it <em>against?!</em>” <br/><br/>”It wasn’t right! Don’t you want the album to be right?” <br/><br/>”I wants de album to be <em>dones</em>.” <br/><br/>Nathan crushed Skwisgaar to his body, petting him like he was trying to placate a hissing feral cat, and laid out his <em>Get Out Of Trouble Free Card</em>. <br/><br/>“<em>Babyyyyyyy.</em>” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar tried to suppress a delighted squirm and failed. “You don’ts get to <em>baby</em> mes right nows.” <br/><br/>“Don’t be <em>maaaaaaaad babyyyyyyyy</em>…” <br/><br/>“<strong>Eeyyyyuuuughhhhh…</strong>” <br/><br/>It was Skwisgaar’s one weakness and the only weapon in Nathan’s arsenal, so Nathan kept repeating it, stroking Skwisgaar’s hair, rocking him in what he hoped was a soothing manner until Skwisgaar dropped his forehead into Nathan’s shoulder with a frustrated, defeated huff. The patter of paws and the chorus of syncopated panting altered them that the yard wolves had returned. Two of them gnawed at either end of the branch Nathan had tossed, trotting at the front of the pack in triumph. One wolf nudged her snout into Skwisgaar’s thigh, and he twisted his neck to face her. <br/><br/>“<strong><em>Kills him</em></strong>,” he said.  <br/><br/>The wolf cocked her head, flopped onto her back, and exposed her belly expectantly. <br/><br/>“<em><strong>Useless</strong></em>,” Skwisgaar grumbled as he dropped to his knees to appease her.  <br/><br/>Nathan stooped to meet him. “Sooooooooooo,” he said, pushed a sniffing wolf out of his ear. “You’re not mad right?” <br/><br/>Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, tipped forward and, more gently than Nathan deserved, kissed him. <br/><br/>“You’re makings dis up to mes.” <br/><br/>“Well, we’ll see how the new album sounds—” <br/><br/>“<em><strong>You’re makings dis up to mes.</strong></em><em>”</em>  <br/><br/>“Okay, baby.”</p>
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